Walk Away-ay-ay

I watch as Cora falls dramatically to the floor, out of breath. I let out a breathy laugh, sitting down next to her.

“Why is volleyball so much worse than cheerleading? I thought I was in good shape, but this- “ she stops talking to take a deep breath, “is so much worse. I think I’m having a heart attack.” She lets her head rest on the cold gym floor.

I see her chest heaving up and down. I chuckle at her reaction while I shake my head.

“Cheer is nothing compared to this. I hate suicides,” I say, resting my hands behind me to support me. Cora huffs in agreement. I look around the gym and see the floor decorated with girls. Everyone is trying to catch their breath.

This coach is one of the most brutal coaches I have ever had. Most coaches focus less on fitness and more on skills, but this one is trying to kill us.

Is she a werewolf? That would explain her inability to realize we are merely human.

“How am I going to get up?” Cora asks as she tries to lift herself from the floor. Sh